


Original sin

by AngelaChristian



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen, Other, Psychological Drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-05
Updated: 2011-09-05
Packaged: 2017-10-23 11:18:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/249737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelaChristian/pseuds/AngelaChristian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What made Weyoun want to defect to the enemy ? Read it here.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Original sin

Header  
Title : Original sin  
Fandom : Star Trek :Deep Space Nine  
Season : S 7, prequel to “Treachery, Faith and the Great River”  
Rating : 16  
Words : 5.737  
Beta: Di_Glossia -Thanks !  
Disclaimer : “Star Trek : Deep Space Nine” belongs to Paramount Pictures, I don’t make money with it. The song “I’m always chasing rainbows” belongs to J. McCarthy and H. Carroll.  
Summary : What made Weyoun want to defect to the enemy ? Read it here.

Weyoun stood with his back against the wall, the blade of the knife pressing against the pale skin of his throat.

“I …I tell you,” he panted “If you do this, if you harm me in any way, the Dominion won’t tolerate it and send at least one troop of Jem’hadar to punish you. You’ll be lucky if you get away that easily. In the worst case, they’ll start a war immediately.”

Although he wasn’t really afraid of dying- he had been through the process of death and resurrection several times- he was afraid of the pain that would come with it. Being stabbed with a knife wouldn´t be pleasant. He felt the rising panic, but he was too proud to beg for his life. The Founders wanted him to be brave and would reward him for his courage and achievement, even though this time, he had failed. He couldn’t convince these aliens to join the Dominion and now they were about to murder him. The Founders were wise in making him a clone: they knew that such things might happen from time to time.

The voice chuckled. “I’m not afraid of your threats, your Jem’hadar, nor the Dominion. If they want a war, they can have it. We are ready to fight them. And you are going to be the first victim of this war. We’ll send your head back to the Founders in order to show them that we mean it.”

His pale skin turned even paler and his blue eyes widened with shock. He swallowed hard. “Please don’t do this; it won’t help you. There is always a way to solve our conflict in a civilized manner.”

“I’m afraid, there isn’t.”

Weyoun closed his eyes and wished that the alien would cut his throat, making his death quick and without unnecessary pain. He could feel his heart beating fast in his chest, fear and panic threatening to overwhelm him. He knew that aliens of other species might think of their family in such a moment, but he had never have one, save for the Founders whom he served.

Suddenly, a hand covered his mouth to muffle his screams, then the knife hit his abdomen, making his world explode in sharp pain. He screamed with terror and...

…woke up in his bed. He sat up, trying to catch his breath. The sheets were tangled and his pyjamas stuck to his skin wetly. This had happened almost every night since the day that he was activated in order to replace Weyoun Five. He could remember ever death that he ever died in full detail: the fear, the terror, the panic, the pain. Those memories returned to him while he was sleeping, forcing him to live through them again and again. He was chased through buildings and then stabbed in the back, shot with a phaser by his own troops, torn apart by a transporter beam, etc. Sometimes he was afraid to close his eyes in the darkness of his quarters. Why didn´t the Founders remove that part from the dead clone’s memories before giving them to a new clone? But it wasn´t up to him to judge the Founders’ decisions.

Everything was quite outside in the corridor, so he turned back the blanket and left   
his bed.

The Founder would be in her liquid state, so she wouldn´t find out his secret and notice what he had been doing at that late hour. In a corner of his quarters, well hidden under a blanket, he kept a functional Starfleet replicator. Originally, the Jem´Hadar salvaged it from a wrecked Federation ship that had been brought down by the troops, but the Founder had no use for it because of its lack of military value. Weyoun was intrigued by the alien device, so he ordered some Jem`Hadar to take it to his quarters without telling the Founder. The Founder wouldn´t miss it or even notice that it was gone, since she didn´t have to eat, anyway. Carefully, he pushed a button on the control panel in order to activate it. The lights flickered.

“Your order, please!” said the computer voice.

“Computer, show me a menu of all available dishes,” he said in a low voice, almost whispering. A list appeared on a small monitor, but Weyoun didn´t know any of the shown food, so he randomly ordered something.

“Strawberries, please.” A small, transparent bowl filled with red fruits appeared. He took one out of the bowl and bit into it. Very soft and juicy. A pleasant sensation on the tongue. He put the bowl aside.

“Apple, please.” A green fruit appeared. When he touched it, it was much harder than the fruit before, although he expected it to be soft as well. He took a bite, but it felt just against his roof of the mouth and its peel felt rough like paper, too.

“Computer, please give me soft fruits.”

“Specify soft fruits.” Weyoun didn´t know how to do that. He had no idea about these alien fruits. “Fruits like strawberries.” The computer buzzed and produced a small bowl of raspberries. Those looked like they were made of many teeny-tiny red balls. Carefully, he put one of the fruits into his mouth and squeezed it with his tongue. The sensation of all the tiny balls exploding in a splash made him shiver slightly.

The next thing he tried was called a peach. It was red and yellow and a bit hairy on the outside, but when he bit it, the sensation was almost perfect: so soft and liquid, yet firm at the same time. He felt the juice running down his chin and greedily took another bite. Within seconds, he had finished and ordered another peach. Due to his not very developed sense of taste, he only got a vague idea of its sweetness, but the mere sensation of touching the fruit with his lips made him feel happy. The only food that was supposed to evoke such sensations was a particular berry, but this worked very well, too.

The next thing he ordered was a dessert called chocolate ice cream with whipped cream. Again, the replicator buzzed and made a sundae appear: three dark brown balls of ice cream with a white heap of cream, liquid caramel sauce and a cherry on top. A teaspoon was sticking out of it. Weyoun reached for it and was surprised that it was very cold. Carefully, he took a spoon full of that white cream and put it into his mouth. He closed his eyes and sighed when he swallowed, feeling the cream slide down his throat. Then he tried the ice cream. It was so cold but the sensation of the ice cream melting was overwhelming to him. His body became tense; he felt like he was going to explode, and sighed with pleasure.

Panting, he relaxed. For a second, he felt like he was unconscious and unable to control himself. He was surprised by that reaction and felt guilty at once. Only serving the Founders was supposed to make him feel happiness and contentment, which meant that these emotions were wrong and not allowed. Nothing could be as divine as the Founders and only they were allowed to make him feel anything, if they wished to or thought that it would be required. He couldn´t remember any emotion like the one he had just experienced; none of his predecessors ever felt like that, so he must be different from them. Weyoun had a bad feeling about this. The Founder wouldn’t want him to be different than the other Weyouns and if they were to find out, they might punish him or worse, kill and replace him. He would have to hide these differences from them in order to protect his life. It was was rather selfish, but he didn’t want to disappoint the Founders by being inadequate or even defective.

The following morning, Weyoun meet Damar at the control center. The Cardassian gave him a long look, as if he was trying to check up on him. This made him nervous, but he snapped, "Yes, it’s still me. You won’t get rid of me that easily,” at him quickly.

“Too bad that the cloning facilities work so fast.”

He still felt his eyes on him when he walked across the room, but ignored it along with Damar’s remark. Today, he felt too tired and exhausted to try to convince Damar of the wisdom and righteousness of the Founders. He also refused to criticize Damar´s drinking habits, which he always regarded as proof of his weakness. Now, he had to deal with his own problems for the first time in his life.

“The reports from the frontline just came in,” Damar said.

“Fine, I’ll have a look at them later.”

Damar watched this new clone carefully. Was he wrong or did this Wayoun seem indifferent for the first time since Damar had met him? What happened to the flame of hatred that fueled the Vorta? He took another sip of Kanar from his glass. Seeing Weyoun like this made him feel better, almost happy. He was so fed up with his arrogant, self-righteous attitude. The Dominion had had to take heavy losses within the last month and it seemed to finally be getting to Weyoun as well. Even that perfect clone started to show weaknesses. Sooner or later, he would need a drink as well to bear this whole mess of a war. Damar wished that the war would be over soon. He would become insane otherwise. He couldn`t look at Cardassia or himself anymore without feeling ashamed of what they had become, servants of the Dominion like the Vorta. It made him sick. He couldn’t even bear watching Weyoun's subservience any longer. He took another sip from his glass.

Weyoun wanted to be on his own; therefore, he took a pile of pads and left the room. Carrying out the Founders’ wishes always made him feel well and important, but today he couldn’t feel that joy at all; instead, there was a big emptiness inside him. He sat down at his desk in his quarters and read through the reports. Ten ships lost at the northern front line, two Federation starships destroyed, one Klingon bird of prey destroyed, two Cardassian ships destroyed… Weyoun let the hand holding the pad sink down to the desk. All those ships with all those people aboard were gone; hundreds must have died within only a few hours of battle on both sides. They must have felt the same terror he had in the moment of their countless deaths aboard those ships. He had read many casualty reports before, but this was the first time that they made him feel anything, though he couldn’t name the new emotion he felt, a mixture of sadness and pain concerning those who had died. Again, this emotion frightened him, because it showed to him, one more time, that something had changed.

A drop of water hit his hand, followed by a second one. Weyoun was surprised and confused. He got up from his chair and had a look at himself in the mirror. His face was as blank as a mask but something seemed to be wrong with his eyes. Water ran out of them and made his cheeks wet.

Before he died in the transporter accident, his life had felt right and he was filled with happiness. He knew where he belonged and he felt content with his place in the universe at the Founder´s side. Now it seemed as if he had fallen out of that eternal harmony. His paradise was lost. But he couldn’t simply go to the Founder and ask her to fix him; no clone was ever fixed, simply replaced with a new one. Replacement was another word for immediate death and, suddenly, he was afraid of dying.

After he had finished reading, he returned to the control centre of the Cardassian headquarters.   
“Weyoun?” he heard the Founder’s voice behind him.   
At once, he bowed down and lowered his eyes. "Founder, I am at your service.”   
She nodded to him, then looked at the female Vorta standing next to her. “This is Weyna. She will work with you on the data that we salvaged from the destroyed Federation ship.”

“As you wish, Founder.” He looked at the woman and felt happy. That was one more unusual response: the only people who were supposed to make him feel anything at all were the Founders, not Vorta or any other alien that he worked with.

“Hello, Weyoun, I am pleased to meet you,” she said in a melodic voice. His heart leaped with joy as he listened to her. She was perfect. If he would have ever dreamt of a perfect Vorta woman, she would look and sound exactly like Weyna. She had electric blue eyes and long dark black hair.

“So am I.” He tried not to smile at her despite his enthusiasm because the Founder was still present, but acted as polite as usual. “Let us start with our work now. Founder, please excuse us.” Weyoun and Weyna bowed to the Founder and left the control centre. They walked through the corridor to a small room with a computer terminal. Both took a seat next to each other in front of it.

“How long have you been working on this data?” she asked.   
“For about two weeks. So far I could only reconstruct parts of the computer log. The ship’s mission seemed to be patrolling along the borders of the Dominion and Federation space. I read some of the reports that the captain sent to Starfleet Command. She continuously informed them about troop movements and troop strength. I also found music among the data.”

“Music? Why would anybody aboard a ship need music?”

“I don´t know, either. But I observed that many Humans like to listen to music while doing routine work.”

“That´s interesting. The Founders never do that. What else did you observe? There weren’t many occasions for me to meet aliens when the Founders wanted me to leave Dominion Space.”

“Of course not, the Founders are too perfect for such primitive needs. I worked most of the time with the Cardassians Gul Dukat and Legate Damar, but I also met some Bajorans and Humans on Deep Space Nine. Damar dislikes me for reasons that I don’t know and I’m sure that he was involved in killing my predecessor.”   
“This is awful, why would anybody be so mean?”

“I don´t understand it, but the Cardassians often kill each other, as do the Klingons, when they are involved in intrigues against each other or members of other families. Gul Dukat’s daughter was killed during such an incident. It had a devastating effect on him.”   
“It seems that we are very lucky, because we don’t have families. The Founders are so kind to create us and spare us the effort of reproduction and raising children.”   
“Yes, although I find the alien’s mating rituals very interesting,” he stated in a neutral voice.   
“They are indeed. Did you ever mate with any of the aliens that you met?” She asked as if this was the most natural thing to do.   
That question seemed to surprise him. “Why would I do this? It was never part of my assignments.”   
“No? Didn´t any alien want to mate with you?”   
“No. Neither Gul Dukat nor Legate Damar showed any interest in that matter.”   
Weyna giggled, amused. "Surely not, they are men. I’m talking about women.”   
“No. I didn’t have much contact with them. The Cardassian and Human leaders were all male. And I never had a wish to ask any woman for it, although I find it interesting to watch them mate.”   
She stretched her hand and ran it slowly over Weyoun’s chest but stopped before she reached his waist. Weyoun shivered when this very distracting sensation ran through him. Something was wrong with his body, but this time with the lower parts of it. “Oh,” was all he said and hoped that she wouldn’t look at his lap.

Then she whispered into his ear, “I would like to show you some of the things that I learned from them. Would you like to try to mate with me?”   
“Now?” Weyoun felt awkward about it. “But the Founder wants us to finish our work.”

“That can wait. Let’s go to your quarters. The Founder is busy and won’t miss us.” She bent forward and kissed his lips. Weyoun had really nice, soft lips that would make her assignment a real pleasure. There was still a lot of the primitive, gluttonous and sexually greedy creature in him that the Vorta used to be before they had been turned into what they were now. When the Vorta were found by the Dominion, they were barely more than animals which lived in tree and ate lots of nuts and berries that they collected and had many progeny, but were absolutely useless to the Dominion’s purposes. But some Founders decided to experiment on them.

Many Vorta died during that process, but thanks to their fast procreation, there were always plenty left. After a while, the Founders succeeded in accelerating their evolution and in the process limited their sense of taste and removed their sexual drive in order to keep them from eating and mating all the time. Another change that had to be made was to alter their aggressiveness and sense of compassion. Those creatures were too naïve and unsuspicious to perform any task without getting killed. They never sensed danger. But those Vorta had been extinguished a long time ago, only the genetic material remained to be used as basis material for cloning.   
Sometimes it happened that the material wasn’t properly cleansed of those unwanted traits or that the added changes didn’t manifest strongly enough. Those defective clones had to be replaced immediately. The Founders told the Vorta a story about a Vorta who once helped a Founder to escape from his solid pursuers and was rewarded with evolution and the honor to serve the Founders, but it wasn’t any more than a story to make the Vorta feel content with their existence. The truth, that they were never more than genetic material or a commodity to the Founders, was well hidden from them. But she knew the truth.   
He took her hand and she followed him.

Both entered Weyoun’s quarters, which weren’t very large, made for the needs of a Cardassian officer and not for a Vorta. It contained a desk with a computer terminal, two armchairs with a small table and a bed behind a wall that separated it from the rest of the room. Weyoun led her to the bed.

He had watched a couple of aliens initiating mating rituals with their partners: the Klingons used blunt violence to stimulate the female partner, but that seemed too rude for an elegant creature like a Vorta. Cardassian males started arguments with the women they were interested in, but, again, it seemed too impolite. Among the Ferengie, everything revolved around the male ears. Vorta had interesting looking ears as well, but he doubted that they were of any sexual importance. But it might be worth a closer look. Humans tried to be nice and polite to each other and treat each other as equal. The Founder, who was female, was always pleased, too, when he offered his services and carried out her wishes. That might be a good idea and it was something he could easily do. He bowed down in front of her and lowered his eyes. “I am at your service, please, tell me your wishes.”  
Weyna was surprised for a moment, because it was unusual for an equal to make such an offer, but then smiled at him. She would treat him like a Vorta. His snow white skin together with those icy cold, electric blue eyes made him an exotic beauty rare among the other clones. The long black lashes added something feminine when he lowered his eyes. It would be a pleasure to seduce him.

“Please undress me,” she said in an almost commanding manner.

Weyoun reached for the zipper at the back of her red-brown dress, opened it and pulled the dress down. Then he carefully helped her to step out of it. He folded it neatly and set it on the armchair.   
“Now, my underwear."   
Again, Weyoun reached around her body for the hooks of her white lace bra. Her breasts were pushed against his chest, which made him feel very nervous. The Founder had breasts as well, but she would never allow him to touch them. But Weyna seemed to want that when she put his hands on them and looked him deep in the eyes. He squeezed carefully, which made her sigh.   
“Do that again.”   
He let his fingertips circle her nipples, which suddenly became harder under his touch. Out of an urge to lick her, he closed his lips around one nipple and slowly sucked on it. Meanwhile, her hands slid down his hips and disappeared under his tunic.   
“Oh my…” was all he could say, when her hands started to play with him. His breath went faster.   
“Please stop doing that or I’ll…explode," he panted.   
“I hope so, but not now.”

She stepped closer and let her hips touch him while she pulled him tighter into an embrace. His breath brushed over her cheeks. Then she turned her head and kissed his lips. She could feel Weyoun shiver in her arms. He pressed himself tighter against her body. “Please…” he breathed into her ear “Don’t tease me any longer.”   
“Not so fast…I want you to do something for me first.”

“Of course. My needs aren’t important and can wait. I will try to please you as well as I can.”   
Weyna took a seat on the edge of the bed and pulled her slip down. Weyoun watched her in interest. She opened her legs. “Now, use your tongue.” He had heard about those techniques and knelt down on the floor in front of her lap. She pulled his head closer. His tongue was warm and soft when it circled around her. Weyoun concluded from her soft moaning that he was doing it the right way. He was silent so as not to distract her and fought the desire to touch himself.   
She buried her hands in his hair and pulled it softly. “That’s enough.” She reached out for his shirt and pulled it over his head. “Take off your boots and pants.” He undressed, then Weyna wrapped her arms around him and pushed him on the mattress. She straddled his body and rocked her hips. Weyoun was surprised to hear himself moaning. His heart started beating faster and faster according to her rhythm. Then, an overwhelming sensation took control over his body that made him groan with pleasure.

Weyna watched him tilt his head back, feeling his body going tense under herself. She came the moment Weyoun did. Now, he lay panting under her.

“That was wonerful. Can we do it again?” He gave her an impish smile.

“Yes, of course, we can,” she said still out of breath. Weyoun rolled on top of her.   
After more than four times, she stopped counting.

Weyoun lay next to Weyna in his bed. She looked at him.   
“You seem worried.”   
“It’s nothing. It’s just…I had to think of that captain. I saw her body, or what was left of it after the Jem’hada killed her.”   
“But, Weyoun, it wasn’t your fault. We’re at war with them. If we wouldn’t kill them, they would kill us!”   
“I’m not that sure about it. The Federation never attacked any other planet. And yes, it was my fault, because I gave the orders to open fire on that ship and destroy it. If we could start a war, then we could also end it.”   
“By winning it,” Weyna said confidently.   
“Yes.” But Weyoun wasn’t that sure about it. They’d lost more ships and troops than they expected to at the beginning. Even more disturbing were the rumors about a lethal disease that had spread quickly within the Great Link of which his predecessor had learned. He’d also secretly dreamt of ruling Earth one day, after the victory of the Dominion but, of course, not without the Founder’s permission. The humans would have to worship him like a god and built him a monument, like the Cardassians did for Dukat once. How ridiculous those plans sounded, now. As if they belonged to somebody else and, actually, they did.   
Weyna run her hand through his hair. “You’re so quiet and pensive. What’s on your mind that bothers you so?” It was really a shame that his days were numbered.   
“So many things; the war… the Founders.” He shook his head.

“Weyoun, I have to tell you something. Before I was assigned to working with you, I accidently listened to a conversation between the Founder and Damar. They think that you might be defective and plan to replace you, if that turns out to be the case. You know what happens to defective clones and I don’t want it to happen to you. If I were in your place, I would leave Cardassia Prime as soon as possible. They don’t fully trust you anymore.”   
Weyoun slowly nodded. “I had an odd feeling when Damar last talked to me. But why would I be defective? Have I done anything wrong? Have I made any mistakes?” He suddenly got angry and snapped, “If my services to the Dominion are no longer required then they’ll have to find someone else to serve them.” He was deeply hurt by these accusations.  
One name came into his mind at once: Odo. He had to meet with him. Odo would understand, because he was a Founder and had the eternal wisdom to handle this delicate situation. He was a God after all! He would also appreciate Weyoun’s services. What Weyoun could offer Odo in return for his help was strategic and tactical information about the Dominion fleet. This might even put a quick end to the war.

“Weyoun!” Weyna was shocked by his words and anger. “Don’t talk like that. It’s not our place to question the Founder’s decisions. If they want you to be replaced, they have the right to do so. They are Gods!”

“I think it would be wise for you to leave now, before my potential defectiveness might cast a bad light on you.” The sudden sharpness and coldness in his usually gentle voice upset her. She dressed herself in silence and left his quarters.

Weyoun got dressed as well. He was running out of time. Without thinking further, he opened his desk drawer, took out a data rod and hid it under his tunic. Now, he had to hurry, before the Founder could change his access codes and security clearance. He walked through the corridors of the headquarters as quickly as he could without running, which would attract the Jem’hadars’ attention. His heart beat faster and faster the closer he got to the space dock. The Jem’hadar could arrest him every minute if the Founder ordered them to. The corridors seemed like an endless maze. He listened to the staccato clicking of his boots and his breath going in and out.   
Weyna was standing in front of the Founder’s desk. She looked up from her pad, when she entered the room.   
“Founder?”   
“Yes, Weyna.”   
“You and Damar were right about that Weyoun. He shows unusual behavior and a reduced sense of loyalty, together with an increased interest in sexuality.”   
The Founder nodded. “I want him replaced as soon as the cloning facilities have the necessary capacities.”   
“Is it really necessary to replace him? He might be no longer suitable for diplomatic assignments, but he could still do simpler work. In times of war, we should save our resources.”   
“Concerning other defective Vorta you’re right, but in this case, it would be a risk to have him working in an area with a lower security level. He might share his classified knowledge with the wrong people.”   
“He might see this coming and try to escape.”   
“Vorta weren’t created to see but to listen and the latter seems to be a problem for that Weyoun. I usually tolerate minor changes and variance in the Weyouns which are due to the cloning process. One turns out more naïve, the other one more cruel and ambitious. I even had one with a twisted sense of humor, which was annoying from time to time. There is always a bit of each Weyoun in all of them. But I can’t tolerate any lack of obedience in any of them. Those are defective and useless for my purposes. They were created to assist me and serve me and nobody else. Why do you like that solid so much?”

“You talk about him, as if he were a customized device. He has feelings like everybody. Did you know that he likes music?”

“Yes, I know about that. Weyoun Two used to have an odd habit of singing on longer flights. Even the Jem’hadar under his command hated it. But it disappeared in Weyoun Three; Weyoun Two was brutally murdered by the Paa’tuhh. They became part of the Dominion after a war that lasted over ten years. I wonder whether his singing had something to do with his death. Anyway, I think you shouldn’t spend too much time with these Vorta, although it is your assignment to watch them in order to find the defective ones. You may return to your liquid state, now. ”

“Yes, mother.” Weyna hoped that Weyoun managed to get outside the Dominion space in time. She flowed into the tub standing in the corner. Her clothes and shoes fell to the ground.

Weyoun reached the entrance to the space dock. A Jem’hadar stood watch and greeted him. Weyoun felt relieved. He wasn’t ordered to stop him, so they didn’t expect him to leave unauthorised.   
“Beam me up to a Dominion ship in orbit. I am going to leave, now.”   
“Do you need an escort, Ambassador?”   
“No, not this time. It won’t take long.”   
The Jem’hadar pointed to the transporter platform. Weyoun stepped onto it with an uneasyfeeling. The last time he used a transporter it was lethal, but he had to do this anyway. The transporter beam materialized him onto a Dominion ship in orbit docked to the space dock. He sat down in a chair in the middle of the bridge and put the headset on. Then, he ordered the Jem’hadar to open the docking clamps and clear him for departure.   
Afterwards, he set a course for the coordinates of the secret rendezvous point that Odo used to meet with his source within the Cardassian military. That man had already been exposed and killed, but Weyoun still knew the codes he and Odo used and sent an encrypted message asking the Founder for a meeting. Then he maneuvered the ship out of the space dock and accelerated to warp.

He had no doubt that the Founder would send a ship in pursuit as soon as she detected his unauthorized leave, but he hoped that Odo would find him earlier. He wondered what would happen to him; would he have to spend the rest of his life in a Federation prison? Would he see Weyna again? But for now he was free. He leaned back in his chair and started singing in silence: “But my life is a race…and my dreams have all been denied…why have I always been a failure…I wonder if the world’s to blame, I wonder if it’s me…”, his voice echoing in the empty ship.

Some days later on Deep Space Nine, Odo was sitting in his office when Kira entered.   
“Odo, you wanted to see me?”   
“Major, yes, I would like to show you something that I found hidden under Weyoun’s tunic.”   
He held up a data rod.   
”What is it? Some secret information? A message?”   
“That’s what I first thought, too. But listen…” Odo put the data rod into the player on his desk.

A melancholic female voice started singing to piano music…   
“At the end of the rainbow there’s happiness and to find it, how often I’ve tried. But my life is a race just a wild goose chase and my dreams have all been denied. Why have I always been a failure? What can the reason be? I wonder if the world’s to blame, I wonder if it’s me? I’m always chasing rainbows, watching clouds drifting by. My schemes are just like all my dreams ending in the sky. Some fellows look and find the sunshine; I always look and find the rain. And some fellows make a winning sometimes and I never even make a gain. I’m always chasing rainbows waiting to find the little blue bird in vain.”

Kira gave Odo a surprised look. “Music? He carried music with him?”   
“I checked the Federation data base; this is an old Earth song by Judy Garland. That song must have had a special meaning to him. It’s the only personal thing I could find.”   
“Now, I remember an odd conversation that I had with a Weyoun about Ziyal’s drawing. He asked me, whether it was good, because he had no sense for aesthetics and he wished he could sing or something like that.”   
Odo nodded. “Weyoun Six wasn’t defective: he was Human.”

The End


End file.
